


Inklings...Ideas...Thoughts

by JerseyGirl



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Nervousness, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerseyGirl/pseuds/JerseyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny had an inkling.</p><p>An idea.</p><p>A thought.</p><p>He'd been working side-by-side with this man everyone called “Commander” for the better part of six months now. Getting shot. Shot at. Having to run in behind Steve’s ass without any backup all the freakin’ time.</p><p>Not that the view was bad, admittedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inklings...Ideas...Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place some time during Season 1 and references one little scene from that season, but if you blink you'll miss it. :-)

Danny had an inkling.

An idea.

A thought.

He'd been working side-by-side with this man everyone called “Commander” for the better part of six months now. Getting shot. Shot at. Having to run in behind Steve’s ass without any backup all the freakin’ time.

Not that the view was bad, admittedly.

Any and all manner of what-the-fuckery that could possibly be done with Five-0’s pass from the governor had been executed with great flair by the former Navy SEAL Danny was now saddled with, and Chin and Kono never seemed to have any trouble letting Steve lead the way. No matter how royally screwed up that way might be.

Still, Danny had to admit – if only to himself – that the man had opened his mind to all manner of possibilities for ways to beat the bad guys that even he, as a seasoned veteran of an East Coast police force, hadn't considered. And they were making it happen. Slowly…inexorably…Five-0 was making Hawaii a safer place. At least, Danny sure as hell hoped so given that his daughter lived there.

It wasn't lost on Danny that in spite of being a man of relatively few words (that didn’t involve ordnance, threats or partner put-downs of some sort) Steve had been making him think. More than ever before. More than at any school he'd attended, more than his days at the academy, more than any of the time he’d spent as a beat cop and then a detective. The problem, if he'd thought to look at it from Steve’s perspective, was that all this thinking hadn't simply stayed on the subject of Five-0 task force business.

No.

Because Daniel Williams, thanks much, thought about a lot more than guns, criminals, car chases and bullet wounds. And when you find yourself in a situation where you're shoulder-to-shoulder with one man for long periods of time, you tend to do an awful lot of thinking about that guy.

Which Danny had done.

Was still doing.

And now, he had an inkling.

An idea.

Just the germ of a thought, really.

But the thing was, he needed some way to test his theory. Something that would tell him whether his inkling, idea and thought had any basis in reality. But how to do this, he wondered. Steve literally spent every waking moment of every single day working on Five-0 business, exercising or in the company of others. Okay, so that wasn’t true, but the fact was that Danny hadn’t yet found the balls to say anything to Steve when they were alone. Which they were.

A lot.

And Steve never talked. Well, he did. Just not about…you know…feelings. Not like Danny. Then again, Danny reasoned, not many people did talk about feelings like he did. It was a Williams thing.

Here was a feeling: he liked Steve.

A lot.

The little thing Danny had always hidden from his family was that he had a thing for tattoos. And bad ass motherfuckers. Really scary types, but not bad boys, per se…just bad asses.

Oh, that ass. Definitely bad. In a Michael Jackson definition sort of way.

Danny was fully aware of the moment he'd begun to realize that he had his very own BAMF right there next to him. It'd been in a moment of frustration, when he simply could not figure out what Steve had been thinking putting a grenade inside a public store to get a door open that a suspect wouldn’t unlock. Later on in the car, Steve had begun spouting all manner of BAMFbabble by way of explaining himself and when Danny had sarcastically remarked, “I don't suppose they taught you Human at SEAL school,” Steve had looked across the front seat at him, narrowed his eyes, cleared his throat and said, “I don't suppose they taught you Hawaiian BAMF in Jersey.”

That had done it.

Danny had blinked, smiled, grinned and then all-out guffawed. “You self-labeled as BAMF?” he’d asked breathlessly. Never mind that Danny agreed wholeheartedly.

He'd seen the blush creep up his gun-toting partner’s neck and from that point on, Danny had made a concerted effort to get the guy to blush again. What, it was cute, okay? How are you gonna be bad-ass one second and beet red the next, right? was Danny’s thought. That had sprung from an idea. That had been born of an inkling.

And it had worked. The two of them had grown from coworkers to friends in little more than a month's time, and had worked all the better together as a team because of it.

That was the problem, though. The problem facing Danny that now had him wondering if he'd ever get a chance to put his theory about Steve to the test. The theory that somewhere, hiding beneath cargo pants, tee shirts or polos and BAMFboots, hiding beneath the tattoos and muscles, hiding beneath those huge eyes that were far too expressive to be healthy on a covert op...was a man who was open to, um…relations with mammals of the same sex.

And species.

There. He'd thought it nice and proper. Yes, Danny fully believed that if Steve were to get to the point where he could stop thinking in terms of explosive level, secret pasts, vendettas and sexy girls...in fact, stop thinking altogether...that the man would be an animal in bed.

With Danny.

After all, Catherine came back for some reason, right?

A slightly less thought about but quite large part of the Steve Equation was that Danny had fallen for him on the spot the moment he'd made the Hawaiian BAMF comment. Not since Jacqueline Correa had Danny felt butterflies of this kind in his stomach. But his thoughts digressed, and he groaned to himself over how often that happened when he started thinking about Steve.

Back to the problem.

The problem being that the two men had worked so well together as a team, that they'd become ‘partners.’ Normally this was a good thing for two men who literally held each other’s lives in their hands. But this kind of awesome partner, however, was not actually the kind Danny had hoped for. It was just…you know…cop partners. He was pretty sure that any window of opportunity he may have had during bouts of stellar Steve smiles directed at him, or during moments when Steve got a little more handsy than one would expect of a Navy SEAL-turned-cop-who-was-also-his-partner, was slowly slipping away with each passing day.

Especially with the last time Cath had put into port having come and gone so recently.

Danny could see that he had to act pretty quickly or he'd lose his chance and probably not even come close to getting another one. Or it was entirely possible that if he tried, he’d fail and screw up both a partnership and a friendship.

He sighed and ran one hand through his hair as he opened Steve’s front door with the other. Steve was seated at his father’s desk with that damnable Champ toolbox sitting there open. He walked up behind his friend, with the cover excuse that he was intently studying the photos Steve was studying to be used if needed, and asked, “You about done with that?”

Steve twisted his head up and back, but Danny continued looking at photos...and not seeing them at all. “I guess,” Steve replied. Danny looked down. Met his eyes.

Damn.

“What, uh…” Danny swallowed. He was trapped by those eyes that were dark in the shadows of the study. “What are you looking for?”

Chicken, his mind supplied.

“I’m not sure,” Steve replied as Danny’s eyes traveled back down to the photos scattered on the desk. A beat, and then, “What are you looking for, Danny?”

He looked down to find that Steve was still looking right at him. And in that moment, as Steve studied him like he was a new and awesome bazooka, Danny wondered if the vibes he was feeling were nothing but his own wishful thinking.

“Danny?” Steve asked in a high-pitched whisper…asked in lieu of a question Danny felt even though there weren’t any words attached to it.

But Danny couldn't answer because his mouth had suddenly gone dry. On impulse he lifted his hand and placed it on his partner’s shoulder. Steve’s hand reached up and covered it.

Danny’s legs suddenly felt very wobbly. He swallowed and tried to get his voice to work, but all he could do was stare down into very big eyes.

He stared.

And stared.

And stared.

“Steve,” he breathed, then finally found his balls, leaned down and slotted their mouths together like his very life depended on it. Steve whined into his mouth. Moaned when Danny’s hand moved, Steve’s hand still covering it, to a cheek with day-old stubble and stroked along his Navy SEAL-trained jawline.

Danny scooted around to the side of the chair, grabbed Steve’s hands properly and pulled him to his feet. The taller man was soon trapped in Danny’s vise-like embrace, hands flat against Danny’s chest. And Steve very nearly knocked Danny over to initiate the next kiss. Danny felt hot and cold and like he might just fall over at any moment with or without the overgrown Boy Scout leaning into him. He held onto Steve for dear life and tasted every inch of him that he could reach. From his tongue to his lips, from his chin to his ear, down his neck, shoving the open button-down shirt covering his muscle shirt back so he could chew on Steve’s shoulder.

When, several hours later, Danny was very nearly ready to pass out listening to the already-softly-snoring Steve in bed next to him, he realized he'd been very right about his friend: Steve was an animal in bed. But he’d never said a single solitary word other than Danny’s name.

Danny had done all the talking, dirty and otherwise.

Danny always did.

But Steve…Steve gave in ways that didn’t need words.

Danny’s inkling had been spot-on.

His idea had been right.

His thought had been on-target.

And as Steve rolled over, groggily pushed himself up onto his elbows and gave Danny a half-lidded look…Danny got an inkling again.

Had an idea.

Liked his thoughts very much indeed.

Moreso when Steve leaned down, placed his lips close to Danny’s ear and whispered, “I love you.”

Danny’s breath hitched in his throat.

He felt Steve’s lips curve into a smile against the shell of his ear.

“I always have.”

Danny grabbed Steve and made love to him properly.

He had no need any more for inklings…ideas…thoughts.

He had Steve.


End file.
